Gone
by Amyskat
Summary: 9 weeks, 4 days and 7 hours had passed since it happened. I know that because that's exactly how long it had taken Chloe to finally break down.


**A/N: Uploading this after I deleted it ages ago. I wrote this in the middle of the night when I was feeling down and needed an outlet. By far the darkest Bechloe fic I've ever written.**

* * *

 **Gone**

9 weeks, 4 days and 7 hours had passed since it happened. I know that because that's exactly how long it had taken Chloe to finally break down.

I had been forced to watch her get up every morning, acting like nothing had happened, and drag herself to class. I had watched her at the funeral a few weeks ago, had seen her comfort her devastated mom and dad.

I had been there for her the whole time, offering to talk or just my shoulder to cry on, but she didn't seem to care, didn't seem to need me so I left her alone after a while. She had always insisted she was fine, but she was fooling no one, except herself. It was only a matter of time until she got out of her state of shock, I had been certain of it.

This was just not normal for the redhead. Bottling up her emotions like this couldn't be good. Even I knew that and I was by no means good at handling my feelings. But this behavior would sooner or later destroy my best friend.

But what could I do? Chloe was shutting me out and I didn't know how to deal with that. She had never shut anyone out like that before and it was scaring the crap out of us. She had insisted we continue our Bellas rehearsal not even two days after he had died. We all were not too happy with that, but her almost crazy eyes had made us all agree in the end.

We wanted to let her grieve in her own way. But no rehearsal went by without at least a dozen exchanged worried looks between the rest of us. The girls had all attempted to talk to her - even Amy had tried her best without any inappropriate comments. But she wouldn't listen.

It got to the point where I had called Aubrey and had her talk to her. Afterwards, the blonde had told me just to wait and be ready to catch her before she falls, she didn't know what else to do either. Aubrey frickin' Posen didn't know how to deal with Chloe. That alone was so insane, I was getting more scared every day, waiting for my friend to fall apart. And then it actually happened.

My shift at the radio station had ended early that day at around 5pm - thank the lord we hired that freshman. I was really exhausted from my English exam that morning so I was just looking forward to working on some music at home. Maybe I could convince Chloe to help me but my hopes were not too high. She had been avoiding to do stuff like that with me lately and confronting her about it had not ended well. She had been mad at me for two days the last time I brought it up.

As I was walking down the hallway, I heard a loud noise coming directly from our dorm. I walked a little faster and burst through the open door. I was in no way prepared for the sight in front of me.

The room was a complete mess, to say the least. The stuff from my desk was all on the ground along with a couple of beer cans, pillows were lying around, and the furniture was not where it was supposed to be. Lying over our now broken glass coffee table was Chloe, mumbling incoherent things to herself. She was with her back to the door and had a bottle of Jack next to her, a large amount of its content now on the floor.

"Chloe?" I just stood in the doorframe, unable to move. Her head shot up and she slowly turned in my direction. Her hair and make-up were a mess and she could barely control her limbs anymore.

"Oh, hey, Becaaa! Welcome to my party." Her speech was heavily slurred and I was seriously wondering how much she's had.

"I tripped over the table," she explained. "Stupid table."

She mainly looked annoyed that this had ruined her evening but suddenly her expression changed. Her lips curved up into a grin before she burst out into a laughing fit. I was still staring at her in shock. I had seen her wasted on many occasions before but never this crazy. She was laughing so hard she started to cough, her face turning redder by the second.

"You know…" She almost fell over. "I'm laughing because this is just perfect." More giggles. She waved her hands in the air and I caught a glimpse of some blood running down her right wrist. I took a step closer.

"Chloe, you-" I was cut off.

"I mean…look at this table, Beca!" She was clearly oblivious to anything I did. "It's shattered. Because of meeee." She pointed a finger at her chest. "Just like little Freddie was shattered because of that stupid car driver."

My heart sank.

"I know I shouldn't laugh but I-I can't stop," she continued, running a hand through her hair. "I should be crying my eyes out and be sad but I can't. It's too much. "

She struggled to sit up but continued rambling. "I mean…it would be natural to be sad…to be mad that someone you love is ripped from your world without warning, without reason!" Her voice was getting higher and higher, her eyes sparkling with insanity.

"Brothers are not supposed to leave that early! They're supposed to stay there forever! He was supposed to dance at my wedding, to be the cool uncle to my future kids, to have a life!" Her eyes were glistening with tears by now as she continued to shout at me, at the world.

"Thank you, universe!" She gestured to the ceiling. "Thanks for taking him away from me!" she finished, panting.

She was sitting there like a little child, broken and lost. I slowly walked over to her and knelt down. When I put a hand on her shoulder, she jumped at the touch, just now realizing I was still there. She looked up at me with those big, sad blue eyes and my heart broke all over again at the sight.

"Becs…" Her shaky voice was hoarse. "He's gone."

"I know," I replied softly. "I'm so sorry, Chlo."

"He won't come back…right?" She silently begged me to disagree but I told her the truth, crushing her irrational hopes.

"No."

Tears started streaming down her cheeks as she leaned forward into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, putting a hand in her hair, just keeping her close. She grabbed the fabric of my shirt, holding on for dear life. I didn't mind the tears or the blood stains on my clothes.

To be honest, I was getting choked up as well. It was hard not to. Her pain was simply too much to take. I felt Chloe shiver uncontrollably with every new wave of sobs. It was like she was almost choking on her pain. I just tightened my grip and held her steady.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally stopped sobbing and relaxed in my arms a bit. I pulled away and looked at her tear-stained face with worry.

"Come on, Chloe. Let's get you cleaned up."

With that, I gently pulled her up with me, careful not to further hurt her or myself with the shards of glass all over the floor, and put and supporting arm around her waist. I led her to the bathroom and sat her on the rim of the bathtub to help her into some fresh clothes. She suddenly started to cough and I was just in time to help her throw up into the toilet. I knelt beside her, holding back her hair and rubbing her back soothingly.

When she was done, I decided there was no other option than to put her in the shower with the mixture of blood, booze, make-up and now vomit all over her skin. Once I got her inside, I turned on the hot water. Usually I would have been embarrassed to help someone shower but I was really just trying to make this easier for her. Neither of us said a word the whole time. Chloe was just letting me do my thing. She let me dry her hair afterwards and I helped her get into her favorite shirt and sweatpants. When I was satisfied with my work I helped her stand up and was about to lead her to her room when she suddenly leaned forward, embracing me once again. Her arms wrapped around my neck and she rested her head on my shoulder. I hugged her back immediately, knowing this was her way to say thank you.

After a few moments, I then led her to her bed and gently tucked her in. "I'll be right back, okay?"

She nodded absently, looking not too happy to let me leave. When I returned a few moments later, also dressed in fresh clothes, I turned off the lights and crawled in next to her, making myself comfortable. She immediately snuggled up in my side, hugging me sideways. She rested her head in the crook of my neck, burying her face in my hair.

"I miss him so much," she whispered in my ear.

I swallowed hard before replying, "I know. But you still have me. You can always talk to me, you know?"

"You're not gonna leave, too?" Panic rose in her voice as that thought hit her. I felt her shoulders tense immediately.

"I'm not going anywhere, Chlo," I said quickly. "Promise."

I gently stroked her hair and felt her body relax again.

"Good," she mumbled. "I can't lose you, too."

I was at loss for words. Instead, I just held her closer - if that was even possible - until I felt her relax even more. After a while, her soft breathing slowed down and evened out, indicating she was asleep now. I just hoped she could have one peaceful slumber for once.

After everything that had happened tonight and the fact that it was only somewhere around 8pm, I found it really hard to find some rest. I still had Chloe wrapped in my arms and felt her soft breathing on my skin every now and then. I figured the emotional stress of the past weeks combined with that bottle of Jack had simply been too overwhelming for the redhead.

And who could blame her? I've never had any siblings, so I might not be an expert on this, but I could only imagine what she must be going through right now. Or her parents for that matter. God, it had been plainly horrible to watch the three of them at Freddie's grave, crying in each other's arms.

And knowing that her little brother had been one of the kindest, funniest people…It was just not fair. Not to him, not to his parents, not to Chloe.

But the worst of all was by far how all of this mess had happened. I had spent the past weeks trying to wrap my mind around that car driver. How could he live on with the knowledge that he had taken the life of a 17-year-old in a matter of seconds just because he had decided to drive after a fight with his wife? I would go crazy.

But in the end, none of that mattered to us right now. Freddie was gone, he would never come back. Those were the facts. And the rest of us had to manage to get back on track. I had to help Chloe deal with it. And it would be the hardest thing I had ever done.

See, I wasn't a family person, not really. I was getting along with my dad these days, but his new wife - it was complicated. And until I met the Bellas, I usually preferred being on my own. But Chloe, on the other hand, had grown up in a happy home with caring parents and an adorable little brother. Heck, even her grandparents had lived right down the street for years.

The Beales had been the perfect little family most kids could only wish to be a part of. That's part of why Chloe was the bubbliest person ever, always positive and helpful. So imagine now after a tragedy like this, how shattered her world must be. Her own brother ripped from this world just like that. No more happy home to come back to. Just misery and grief whenever she looked at her parents. I was certain it would get better after some time but right now…I didn't know. I usually didn't overthink stuff. I just dealt with whatever life threw at me right in the moment. And for now, that meant supporting Chloe.

I would call Aubrey again tomorrow. Chloe needed her more than ever. She needed all of us. I sighed and glanced at the clock on the nightstand in the dim light. 10:32pm. I wanted my thoughts to stop spinning but they wouldn't.

So instead of sleeping, I spent half the night thinking about what tomorrow would bring. How Chloe would feel, if she even wanted to talk at all about things. It was such a weird situation. Usually, I was the one who needed to be convinced to talk. I had never needed to push Chloe in that direction. But even someone like her could break, could fall.

I was so wrapped up in my train of thoughts, my worry, that I didn't notice Chloe had started moving around a bit. That was until she tightened her grip on my shirt in her sleep. I looked down at her, trying to make out what was wrong, but it was too dark. She mumbled some incoherent things, sounding distressed. I decided to wake her up to rip her from that restless sleep.

"Chloe?" I gently shook her shoulder. No response. I heard a small whimper and panic rose in my chest.

"NO!" In one sudden move, she sat upright, panting. I flipped on the light on the nightstand.

"Hey, it's okay," I said. "I'm right here."

It took a few moments for her to catch her breath and adjust to the brightness of the lamp. Before I could do or say much else, she slid back down into the pillows and grabbed my hand. I let her put it between her palms and just watched her for a moment, still sitting next to her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked after a minute or two.

"No, it's fine," she said quickly and gently pulled me back down to her. I twisted a bit to turn the light back off.

Silence fell over us. She released my hand after a while and scooted closer, wrapping her arms around my neck. It was the world's most awkward hug given our position, but it seemed to soothe her nonetheless. I didn't do too well with this much physical contact usually, but it was different with her.

I don't know how long we lay there like that before I felt her even breathing on my collarbone. I gently untangled her arms from my neck and tucked her in beside me. I rubbed my eyes and stared at the ceiling.

How did we get to this point?


End file.
